Darkest Before Dawn
by The Amazing Snorkack
Summary: After a long disappearance over the summer, Harry returns to Hogwarts. Physically, at least. In short? ANOTHER MAGUS FIC!
1. Waterlogged

**Darkest Before Dawn**

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all related material are copyrighted to J. K. Rowling. The fic is on a "fan fiction" website for a reason, kiddies.

SUMMARY: After a long disappearance over the summer, Harry returns to Hogwarts. Physically, at least.

Hey there... **Amazing Snorkack **here. I've lost my humorous touch over these past two years, so bear with me as I attempt to put together a new fanfic independent of anything you've seen in my previous ones. Don't expect a large amount of humor in the beginning, but I'll try to get a couple quips past you all. Well, enough of my senseless rambling, start reading!

* * *

** Chapter 1 **

** Waterlogged **

The most dramatic scenes in literature and film are usually aided by nature. Rain, in all its majestic glory, comes to intensify the situation. The drops of water that fall from the sky are symbolic of a power that none can control.

How absolutely ironic it was that a child of destiny was caught in a downpour that night.

Harry Potter was no ordinary teenager. In a world that still evaded the non-magical to this day, he was the one beacon of hope. Many times he had played the hero, and with each the stakes were higher. He'd lost his parents at age one and his godfather at age fifteen. Beneath the stoic attitude he wore for the sake of others was a child crushed by the burden of responsibility and mangled by experience.

There was something that Harry hated above all else, and that was the Dark Lord, Voldemort. From the depths of nightmare there had rose a terrible enemy bent on eradicating all without purity of wizard blood. Every day he had grown more powerful. He had only been foiled when his attempt on the lives of the Potter family had backfired, his killing curse rebounded off a child. It left the Dark Lord on the brink of death. However, two years ago he had risen again, bringing with him the same terrible destruction he had always orchestrated. Harry was cursed with a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead and a mental link to Voldemort.

That link was tearing him apart as his summer holiday progressed. He was losing his sanity.

Occlumency was doing him no good. Even though he went to sleep devoid of emotion, it must not have been a difficult task for the Dark Lord to mess with his mind. Night after night he was visited by nightmares filled with blood and terror. They were the exposed ambitions of a maniac.

_He could be warping me into someone else and I'd never know_, Harry sighed inwardly.

His black hair was drenched and clung to him like a dead weight. His green eyes could see nothing through his battered, round glasses. All he got in the way of clothing were hand-me-downs from his disgustingly fat cousin, Dudley. The huge T-shirt and pair of baggy sweats hung off of Harry as though he were a twig doll. He was unusually skinny.

The thunderstorm roared around him. He headed for the home of his surrogate family. The Dursley household. He laughed aloud. They only kept him out of fear at this point.

He strolled down Privet Drive for a while longer. Mad-Eye Moody had warned him never to leave the house until the Order of the Phoenix came to get him, but Harry didn't care. If he got hit with a killing curse, then he'd obviously be beyond responsibility. He couldn't lose. Then his mind settled on Trelawney's first prophecy, and his expression turned sour. He would be the murderer or the victim of Voldemort only.

He loped up the driveway of Number 4 and stopped on the porch, taking a couple of seconds to dry off and look around. The Dursley car was parked in front of the squat garage, so he assumed they were home. He reached out to knock on the door.

There was a clamor nearby, and he whirled around to see several shadowy figures coming at him from Aunt Petunia's hedge. One of them raised a wand, and shouted something. A blue light hit Harry in the chest, and he was slammed against the door.

The moonlit Privet Drive swam before him in a blur of colors as the seven people walked up to him. He groped for his wand, but his hand was slow to react, and felt numb and heavy. His knees buckled underneath him, and everything went black.

* * *

The stress of Harry's disappearance was wearing everyone in the Order of the Phoenix down. To most, it appeared he had run away – all of his belongings had vanished from the Dursley residence, for instance. The Order had been quick to discover that was not the case. A high concentration of magical energy was found right before the Dursley's front door. The ministry confirmed that Harry had not used his wand at all once he'd left the school, so it must have been a trap. 

Nymphadora Tonks slumped into an armchair in the living room of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. As a Metamorphmagus, she could change her appearance at will. No one but her parents knew what she had originally looked like, and they had long since died during the previous wizarding war. But now, without the ability to concentrate, her guises were slipping. Harry was gone, presumably dead, and this new war was as good as lost.

The fireplace crackled and flashed a violent emerald. Remus Lupin stepped out of the flames and dusted himself off. His face was as haggard as ever, perhaps even more so because of the approaching full moon. He unbuttoned his threadbare coat and tossed it over a chair. "Evening, Tonks."

"Wotcher, Remus."

The werewolf collapsed into the chair next to her. "Lovely weather for an emergency meeting."

"It's been raining nonstop for three weeks now," said Tonks.

One by one, the members of the Order began to arrive. Some came through the fireplace, others Apparated. Luckily for them, the portrait of Sirius Black's mother had finally been removed from the wall of the house. Forcefully. There would be no insane shrieking to greet each newcomer.

Dumbledore arrived last. After several protective spells were cast about the room, everyone settled down. The meeting began.

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Well, leave me a review now, won't you? 


	2. Back Again

**Darkest Before Dawn**

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all related material are copyrighted to J. K. Rowling. The fic is on a "fan fiction" website for a reason, kiddies.

**Summary:** After a long disappearance over the summer, Harry returns to Hogwarts. Physically, at least.

What's kicking? Allow me to explain in further detail... this is going to be a Magus fic. But not a normal one. Oh, no, I'm not one for sappy heroes. I prefer psychotic villains, if you catch my drift. While Harry WILL be against Voldemort (you know, he did murder the poor kid's parents, the chances of an alliance of any kind between them are about as likely as hell freezing over), that doesn't mean he's automatically Gary Stu on steroids.

Speaking of the steroids, believe me when I say it. Nearly every Magus fic I've ever borne witness to involves Harry becoming some kind of humongous ball of muscle within one week. It's disturbing. We're going to leave Harry's body damn well alone, because I don't understand what having muscles has to do with magic. It just doesn't make any sense! Crazy Magus fic writers...

Well, just go on and read.

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** Chapter 2 **

** Back Again **

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasely were two of Gryffindor's prefects. After having spent a good hour being briefed up in the front cabin of the Hogwarts Express, they were glad to get out and start patrolling the hallways between cars. Hermione absently curled her fingers into her curly brown hair, while Ron left his own bright red hair on its own. Both exchanged glances for a moment. They'd had an awful summer, losing Harry and discovering a bunch of unfortunate repercussions. Then they hurried along, the other prefects in their wake.

Ron broke their silence with a few words. "So... school again."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed slowly, "I bet you're just itching for the final exams, aren't you, Ron?"

He put on a show of horror, and both broke out into laughter.

Hermione casually glanced into one of the compartments to check on the one person who was in it. Through the blurry glass she had seen a figure staring out of the window. She assumed they were a loner, and sympathized. Opening the door, she smiled and said, "How is the train ride for you?"

Hermione blanched as soon as she saw their face. Messy black hair. Green eyes that glittered with defiance, rimmed by round glasses. A lightning-bolt scar. His voice had some sort of friendly mocking quality to it. "It's fantastic."

Hermione held on to the door for stability, stuttering his name in a whisper. "H-H-Harry!"

His expression suddenly became distant. "Yes?"

"You're alive! You – I – we thought something terrible had happened to you! We were searching all over... no one knew... oh god..."

He looked back out of the window at the scenery that raced by. "Sit down and close the door."

She did so, quickly. Something was terribly wrong, and she feared that she would now find out what. She tried grabbing one of his hands between her own. He mumbled something.

"Say that again?"

"I killed them."

She nearly dropped the hand in fear. "What?"

"The Death Eaters. There were seven of them... I murdered them all and I don't even know how. I was being attacked, and it was all I could do to stop them until I just... there was so much magic there, I think it _strangled_ them. I couldn't have."

Hermione's brown eyes were filled with pity as she stared at him, gripping his hand even harder between her own. He turned around to look at her again, and the effect of the memory was drastic. His eyes were nearly as wide as hers with some echo of disbelief.

"I spent the rest of the summer hiding out in different places. Nothing profound. I'm scared, Hermione. If I don't know what happened that night, it could happen again."

She was hoarse. "Harry..."

He pulled his hand away. "Get out of here. I don't want to take a chance."

"No! The last thing you need is to be alone right now. Harry, they were Death Eaters. It's better that they're nothing more than... than dead bodies. They won't be able to take any more lives. Just calm down." She gave him a small smile. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore knows what's happening to you, just try to get through the train ride without worrying."

At the mention of the headmaster's name, Harry's lip curled slightly, but he said nothing of it.

For the longest time they sat in silence. Hermione continued to stare at Harry, shocked that he was right there in front of her. The Boy-Who-Lived stared at the wall adjacent. Every once in a while he would turn, meet her gaze, and both would hurriedly look away.

Disjointed voices murmured outside the compartment door. She realized who they were. Harry jumped up and seized his Hogwarts robes from his trunk, lay down on the other set of seats, and threw it over his head and upper body hastily. The door slid open, and Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom walked in.

All four noticed Hermione's stressed look as they sat down in various places in the compartment.

"Something wrong, 'Mione?" Ron asked.

"Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking. It's really nothing."

Harry feigned sleep, protecting himself from being recognized. Both he and Hermione knew what kind of hell would ensue if Harry were to simply reappear to all of his friends right then, without warning. Ginny nodded toward the inert form, "Any idea who that is?"

Hermione was holding her forehead in one hand. She had to think fast. "Just a student. They said they weren't feeling well, so I stayed until they, er, felt a little better. It's just motion-sickness."

Luna's wide eyes looked up and down the person who lay across the chairs. She started to open her mouth, then stopped at a quick throat-cutting motion from Hermione.

Neville took a seat on the floor of the compartment. "I wonder what happened to Harry."

Hermione coughed.

Luna shook her head slightly in disbelief. _This is going to be a long train ride._

_

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_Luna's right... now REVIEW!_  
_


	3. The Confession

**Darkest Before Dawn**

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all related material are copyrighted to J. K. Rowling.  
**Summary:** After a long disappearance over the summer, Harry returns to Hogwarts. Physically, at least.

Looks like unless you're already well known, it's hard to get a decent number of reviews. Blah. I'm content to use this as a test run though. I've got some better ideas saved for later for this one... the beginning is slow, I'll admit, but this time I'll cram two of my usual chapters into one and see if it looks better.

Oh, and I'll stop it with the depressing humorlessness. That's getting old even for me. I'm going to add some humor as soon as Harry finds out what's going on.

Let's get this thing rolling.

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** Chapter 3 **

**The Confession  
**

Harry's reliance on Hermione to distract the others must have worked, because nobody figured him out. The Hogwarts Express came to a jerky stop and all but Hermione left the compartment. As soon as she'd managed to shove the last straggler out, she slammed the door and scrambled toward Harry.

She pulled the robes off of his face. "We have ten minutes to get out of the train before it leaves with us still on."

He sat up and smiled innocently. "Yes, Professor Granger."

Hermione's mouth twitched, but she tried not to let her own smile through. She tossed the robes into his lap. "Get changing. I won't see anything."

Three minutes later they were out, Harry making sure to keep his face as invisible as he could. Both were being jostled too much to stay together easily, so Harry grabbed her shoulder gently and leaned in. "Don't tell anyone, 'Mione. I'll find you as soon as I can."

She leaned over and murmured, "Where are you going?"

There was a long pause. "Dumbledore's office."

"Try not to disappear for two months on your way there." Her nervous giggling betrayed her actual feelings.

They were approaching the carriages fast, and he knew it would probably not help for them to ride in the same one. He turned toward Hermione for a moment. Between the brim of his hat and the scarf wrapped around part of his face, he could see a single tear glistening along her cheek. Then the crowd split like a delta and she was gone.

With the hat pulled down over his eyes, nobody recognized him. The thestrals were still visible outside the carriages, filling the space that Harry had thought empty for many of his years at the school. They reared and snorted as he passed them. He spent a silent carriage trip with a couple of second-years who were smart enough not to talk to him. He kept his eyes closed the entire time, lest someone see his telltale irises. As the carriage rattled and bumped along the road to the front doors of the castle, he had time to reminisce. There'd be little of that later, he supposed, just more death.

The stagecoach stopped abruptly and the doors flung open. All the younger students practically leaped out. Harry exited last, blending into the black-clad crowd of children easily. However, he could not keep up the disguise if he were to sit down at a House table.

The Gryffindor head of house was waiting around a room down the hall from the doors of the Great Hall. She appeared to be waiting for the first years. Harry ducked out of the mass of students and headed for her.

"Excuse me, Professor?" Harry asked quietly.

McGonagall's catlike stare looked him over without recognition. "What is it?"

"I need to see the headmaster."

She squinted at him, still not figuring out who he was. "And why is that?"

He lifted the brim of his had slightly. McGonagall blanched, grabbed Harry around the wrist with her bony hand, and dragged him along the corridor and around a corner.

"Potter!" she hissed in an exasperated voice.

"It's a long story," Harry muttered. He looked down at the stone floor. "I need to see the headmaster."

"He will not be able to come until after the feast. Although I do think we ought to keep you out of the more populated areas of the school until then – people will think you've pulled a publicity stunt, thanks to the Daily Prophet and the slanderous garbage they keep printing. Even dead, you still made a scapegoat for some of those journalists."

He remained silent. They walked through hallways, up stairs, and around corners, until at last they came to the stone gargoyle outside of the headmaster's office.

"Pepper Imp," McGonagall said briskly.

It leapt aside and they walked through the split in the wall. The spiral staircase shot upward quickly. McGonagall looked agitated, and Harry couldn't blame her. Even in dim torchlight, the oak doors shimmered and sparkled. The teacher did not have to knock; the doors swung open and she pushed Harry into the dimly lit room.

"Take a seat, Potter. I'll tell the headmaster you're here, but believe me, it will be a while before he can come." She left, closing the door behind her. The deadly silence that filled the room was soon replaced by theatrical snores from the portraits of headmasters that covered the walls.

He pulled the pointed hat off his head and held it awkwardly at his side for a long while. His exhaustion soon sank into him, and he became dizzy with the effort of staying on his feet. Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet phoenix, was on his perch. He was staring at Harry, glowing slightly in the darkness. He appeared to have grown a lot over the summer from an ash-covered baby bird. With a sick feeling in his stomach, Harry remembered why Fawkes had become a baby again.

Harry sank into the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. There were many pieces of parchment scattered across it, but he couldn't read any of them without light. He tried his best to stay focused, but there was nothing that could captivate him for long.

His thoughts were soon extinguished like a weak candle flame.

* * *

Harry opened his right eye, then closed it. 

_Too bright in here..._

It took a minute for him to register where he was and why. He jumped as though stuck by a pin. "Professor Dumbledore! I –"

Sitting at the desk, swathed in mid-morning light, was Albus Dumbledore. The headmaster held a finger up to silence Harry. His expression was hard to read. Harry noticed that it was not particularly benevolent, but not angry either.

"Harry, I don't want to hear excuses for anything. You're alive, and that's more than many expected after your disappearance." He picked up a large green quill and dipped it into ink. His eyes were on the parchment in front of him, and not on Harry. "I do have a few questions for you, and likely some answers to yours. I'll go first. What happened to you over this summer?"

Harry took a deep breath, then told everything. "I got attacked by some Death Eaters outside the Dursley's. They knocked me out, and when I woke up they started trying to torture me with the unforgivables. I didn't have my wand, so I thought it was all over. But they couldn't land a single one on me. I had a– I don't know, some kind of green glow around me. It absorbed their curses and flung them back, then it just lashed out at all of them and constricted them." He winced at this point. He didn't like being reminded of it. "They were dead, and the glowing stopped. I was being held in a muggle building, so it wasn't hard to get out and find somewhere to hide. I didn't want to scare anyone, so I thought keeping a low profile until I got back to school would be simpler than accidentally setting that weird magic off again."

The quill had stopped moving, suspended above the parchment slightly. Dumbledore's eyes were filled with surprise. The headmaster was now very interested. "Do you remember if this aura was of your own doing? Did it seem like a shield spell?"

"No, it was definitely mine... I could feel it. That's why it bothered me so much." Harry looked down at his shoes as though they were the most interesting things he'd ever seen. His feelings of guilt did not diminish. He had a few of his own questions, though. "Professor, do you know what happened?"

With a smile, the old man nodded. "It seems you awakened the Magus powers within yourself."

* * *

DUN DUN DUNNNN... 

**The Numb Newt**: Thanks!  
**LiLy MaLfOy13: **I hope you keep reading, it'll only get better.  
**RedCat8: **Sometimes fanfiction just scares me with its randomness.


	4. Magus, Student, Teacher

**Darkest Before Dawn**

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all related material are copyrighted to J. K. Rowling. The fic is on a "fan fiction" website for a reason, kiddies.

**Summary:** After a long disappearance over the summer, Harry returns to Hogwarts. Physically, at least.

I'd have to say this is the longest chapter yet. I like it, too, which is good. Well except for the moody beginning, which is there merely to explain the situation. Or so you think. I think Harry needs to get a good whack with a two-by-four or something to get his brain working.

Hermione's pretty touchy right now. She'll get even more interesting. I can't wait to see how she reacts to William Black, he's a riot. If you've ever read a Magus fic, you're going to know what's going on already. I dropped a few hints just in case you don't get it by the end of the chapter.

Also, be sure to go to some name-meaning site and find out what William means. That was just for kicks, really. Cute, right? There, you can't possibly not get it now.

* * *

**Chapter 4 **

** Magus, Student, Teacher**

Harry squinted at the headmaster. "I'm a what?"

"A Magus, Harry. A wizard with unstoppable power." He put the quill down and stood up, walking toward the large window in the office. The midnight blue robes he wore absorbed light, while his beard seemed to glow with it. "I will have to find out how much you can already do, and work from there."

"Don't I get some kind of say in any of this?" Harry spluttered.

The headmaster turned around slightly. Harry felt himself being regarded less like a person and more like a display in a museum. "I will give you a choice right now, if you feel it necessary. Accept the help of the wizard world and learn to become a proper Magus. Refuse the help of the wizard world and be... banished. Incapacitated. Those who cannot handle their powers quickly find a way to burn themselves out."

Harry felt a little sickened by the last comment. Banishment from the only places he'd ever felt accepted, however tentatively at times, was a harsher punishment for him than he'd realized. Even through the summer, he knew he _could_ return.

The elder wizard continued. "I know how you feel about the way I had always held back the truth from you. I am not holding back anything now. Becoming a fully-trained Magus will not be easy. In fact, with every day you will look upon the thought with more and more revulsion than you do now. For you, it will have to be rushed, so the training will be even more intense than normal. But in these dark times, this could be the turn of events that saves your life."

"There must be no doubt that I'm the one in the prophecy now," Harry said glumly.

"I have learned a great deal about the Magi, though I have heard that some traits vary from one to another. There are, however, some things that every Magi has in common: trying to think that you can perform the magic of a Magi will not be enough. You must put your very heart into it. In fact, what you did two months ago was likely not your first experience with your Magus powers." The headmaster's tone was grandfatherly, but it didn't make Harry feel any more in control. He nodded uncertainly.

A thought occurred to him. "Professor... how many other Magi are there out there beside me?"

The blue eyes behind the half-moon spectacles flashed with morning sun. "There have been none for over seven hundred years."

"Oh."

Dumbledore reached into one of the pockets of his robes and pulled out an intricate watch, with twelve hands. "Well, look at the time. I must be heading to my first class today. I couldn't fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts position this year, so I had to take it over myself. Of course, I may not need to continue that if I can find a suitable replacement..." He winked at Harry. However, Defense Against the Dark Arts only distressed him further.

_The defense group_, Harry thought suddenly, _until I get out of this nightmare, I can't organize another meeting of it._

"Now Harry, there's a tower set up for you to stay in. It's quite roomy, you'll find. As I recall, most of your belongings disappeared along with you, so we cannot recover them, but I'm sure we can find a replacement for anything you're in desperate need of. The ones we did get back should be in there." Dumbledore picked up a piece of parchment and started to scribble a few things onto it. "I'm going to have to ask you not to leave that tower until we sort out a few of the messier issues of your Magus training. You can experiment if you'd like to, but make sure not to wear yourself out. Magic is very draining."

Harry nodded slowly. He still couldn't believe what was going on. His mind was elsewhere, back in the universe he understood.

"This will activate as soon as I leave the room." The headmaster pulled his wand out of a different pocket and tapped the paper lightly. "_Portus_."

As soon as the parchment was placed in Harry's hand, he crushed it inside a fist. While his expression stayed relatively blank, he could feel anger and fear burning away at his insides. Dumbledore strode across the room and left. Harry distinctly heard two words before the Portkey rushed him away in the usual violent flurry of sounds and colors.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

Hermione looked over her schedule for Monday again. Her first class was N.E.W.T.-level Potions. As usual, the Gryffindor sixth-years were paired with the Slytherin sixth-years. Stuffing the timetable into her bookbag, she hurried out of the Gryffindor Common room. The portrait of the Fat Lady swung shut behind her, the Fat Lady in question deep in conversation with several painted characters, and took no notice. 

As she headed down a flight of stone stairs, she allowed her mind to wander. Despite whatever horrendous event happened during the summer, Harry hadn't forgotten how to laugh. Harry...

The summer had been very worrying for her. It all started one of the nights she'd been staying over at the Burrow. She'd woken up early, and had quietly descended the stairs, stopping when she heard the two Weasley parents talking in low voices. By their account, they suspected Harry of leaving on his own. At first they imagined he could have shown up at some of the usual places, but it had been a couple of days and there was not a sign of him. Hermione's heart fell when she heard that terrible news; she hadn't realized how much she'd grown attached to him as they grew up together. Now, at least, she was certain he was safe, and that was enough to soothe her nerves.

Luna was quite a mystery to Hermione still. Unlike anyone else Hermione had met, Luna had not batted so much as an eyelash when she figured out that Harry had been stowing away on the train. Hermione refused to divulge anything to the Ravenclaw, warning her that it was dangerous enough that either of them had discovered him.

The dungeons had always been a sinister part of the castle. Torches lit the way down a series of wet stone hallways, leading up to a thick, soundproof door that marked the entrance to Professor Snape's classroom. Potions class had always been low on Hermione's list of favorite classes.

She took a seat next to Ron, who'd arrived a few minutes ahead of her. He looked depressed about something, his tall and lanky form having a hard time curling up on the stool he was seated on. She had a pretty good guess of what it was, and put a hand on his shoulder. Her desire to tell him that Harry was there in the castle was strong, but Harry would never forgive her. She had to keep it secret.

Snape slammed the classroom door behind him, and strutted toward the front of the class. He couldn't conceal his smirk as he read down the attendance.

"Harry Potter? Ah, he does not appear to be with us any longer. What a _pity_."

Hermione gritted her teeth as she watched his quill scratch off the name as though it were nothing. She held her tongue, though. It was so difficult, but she knew he'd pay for the hell he was putting all of them through. It was only a matter of time.

* * *

Evening covered Hogwarts in a cover of darkness. Most of the students, occupied by dinner, wouldn't have seen the tall figure that sauntered through the castle. His dark eyes glimmered with silent laughter as he looked around. He had straight black hair that fell to his shoulders. The robes he wore were deeper and darker than midnight, twinkling with a couple of constellations that had been cleverly woven into the fabric. There were a few people in the castle who, if faced with him, would swear on their lives that Sirius Black had returned from the dead. Luckily, none were around. 

Well, almost none.

As he walked on with his slow pace, a late student came barreling down one of the hallways and crashed into him. He threw himself against the wall and grabbed the back of her robes to break her fall. Books flew everywhere. She immediately dropped to the floor, her ears as red as tomatoes.

"Sorry sir, I didn't see you, sir! I just had to get to dinner because I'm late, I helped Professor Sprout water one of her more unruly plants and I–" The student's expression went from humiliation to horror. "SIRIUS?"

"Sirius Black? My, no! But he is a relative of mine." His laugh was wild but kind, and she began to feel a little better. The adult had squatted down and was helping pick up books. "I'm the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Oh... well that was um... I guess you're going to be my teacher, so I'll introduce myself." She gave a small smile. "My name's Ginny Weasley. And you?"

"Pleased to meet you, Ginny. I'm William Black."

Her embarrassment had returned at this point. The red flush crept from her ears to her freckled cheeks. He stood up again, holding some of the books, and offered her his hand. She grabbed it and pulled herself up, finding herself face with him for a brief moment. There was something about him that was strange, and before she could figure it out, the moment was gone. He was just another grown-up going on his way.

She thanked him again a couple of times as she gathered all the books up, then slipped around a corner and out of sight. He wore a mischievous grin as he watched her depart, then continued on. He did have to check in with the headmaster first, of course. Then he could prepare for his first class tomorrow – a mix of the four houses' sixth-years.

He could hardly wait.

* * *

Well, there you go. A _real­­_ cliffhanger. Now, don't forget to review. User input makes this worth it. 

Up next... WILLIAM BLACK'S FIRST CLASS! Unfortunately I have to go somewhere without internet for about a week, when I come back I'll have the next chapter written and posted.


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